


Tremulous, breathless, flaming

by Liley



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liley/pseuds/Liley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks at her.<br/>“If you stop, I swear I’ll kill you on the spot.”<br/>She’s not talking anymore, simply hissing the words and looking at him with fear in her eyes, fear of the idea he might leave it there. </p>
<p>Post 2.09 : What if Athos and Milady just totally went for it on Rochefort's desk?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tremulous, breathless, flaming

**Author's Note:**

> Since many claims have been made on Tumblr to read a fanfic where Athos and Milady actually don’t stop their making-out in 2.09, here you go!
> 
> This is my first attempt at smut, I hope it looks as nice on the paper than it looked in my head.

_Twilight—and you_

_Quiet—the stars;_

_Snare of the shine of your teeth,_

_Your provocative laughter,_

_The gloom of your hair;_

_Lure of you, eye and lip;_

_Yearning, yearning,_

_Languor, surrender;_

_Your mouth,_

_And madness, madness,_

_Tremulous, breathless, flaming,_

_The space of a sigh;_

_Then awakening—remembrance,_

_Pain, regret—your sobbing;_

_And again, quiet—the stars,_

_Twilight—and you._

_(Angelina Weld Grimké - El Beso)_

 

He still doesn’t understand how everything went so fast. Of course, going on a mission with her wasn’t exactly the best idea he’d had but the look of disdain from his companions gave him no choice. Having witnessed his showdown with Anne last year, who could blame them for hating her?

He doesn’t know for sure when he began to care for her again. Was it when she came for his help to save the King? Was it the discovery of who she really is? Was it her stubbornness and her constant refusal to accept his help? Anyway, when he saw her with Catherine, the thought of leaving her to die again had been unbearable.

Is he wrong? If everyone around him tells him she’s a deceiver, why can’t he bring himself to believe them? Instead, when she told him _again_ his brother tried to rape her, he chose to think she was telling the truth. In the end, there will always be instincts, doubts and memories that will only belong to them and that no one else will understand.

The cabinet was conveniently small and his head had been dizzy with a mix of sexual frustration and fear Rochefort might find them. Then, they’d heard a horrible scream and he was gone, leaving them with their lust and despair.

And there he is now, pining Anne against a bookcase and getting as close as possible to her. He can feel her legs beneath the heavy skirts, her breathing is so erratic her breasts are bumping repeatedly against her corset, as if they’re trying to free themselves from the restrictive item. And her tongue in his mouth, intertwined with his, his hands sliding down her waist to cup her behind… He knows he has to stop before something embarrassing happens but his brain doesn’t answer anymore and all his senses are awake, screaming to lift her skirt and simply _take her_ , while everyone outside is running and yelling incoherent orders… or calls for help?

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare…”

But he does, looking at the open door – everybody could’ve come in and seen us, how cunning are we – and unconsciously leaning towards the open cabinet to fetch back the pistol Anne dropped.

He looks at her.

“If you stop, I swear I’ll kill you on the spot.”

She’s not talking anymore, simply hissing the words and looking at him with fear in her eyes, fear of the idea he might leave it there. She grabs the lapels of his jacket and presses her whole body against him. He gasps when she grinds against his erection and he knows she’s won but can’t help himself protesting: “It’s not wise, we don’t have time for this!”

She grins then, an obscene smile and whispers against his mouth: “We don’t have to take our time. Now… close the door and come take care of your wife.”

*****

She’s sitting on the desk, legs parting on either sides of him while his trembling hands fumble with the laces of her corset. Her hand travels down his body, reaches inside his breeches and begins stroking him, softly, delicately, and his hands fall on her waist while he buries his head in the crook of her neck: “Harder, please, harder…” He laughs at his pleading voice in his head but the laugh becomes a moan as she suddenly hardens her grip.

“You were never able to handle my corsets correctly, Olivier, remember? They always ended up ripped off on our bedroom floor.” He turns his head to face her and sees she’s more amused than mocking. A sly smile comes on his lips and he says in his sweetest, most dangerous tone: “Lie down.”

She does as he says, lying down amongst the letters and parting her arms. Her half-undone corset opens up and her breasts appear, nipples perking. He leans down and catches one in his mouth, enjoying the sweet moans she makes. She tastes like that day in the field and he can’t help moaning in return. He feels her hand in his hair and her legs locking on his hips, and it’s her who’s begging now, begging him to take her.

“Not yet.” She raises on her elbows and looks at him. Her hair is a mess, her cheeks are red and her lips swollen. She’s a marvel to look upon.

 “I thought we didn’t have time.”

He begins to sink on his knees, eyes still locked with hers: “We always have time for this, remember?”

He seizes the hems of her skirts and lift them up to her waist. He’s still not used to her wearing stockings, when they were still together, she was running bare foot most of the time in their house, mainly because he found it charming. But everything was charming about her, then. His eyes rise a bit higher and his breath gets caught in his throat. _Her cunt’s still charming, though._

The soft light of a candle catches on her dark curls, giving them shades of red, and she’s wet, so wet, his mouth waters and he feels a violent surge in his loins, so he leans, opens his mouth and licks a burning path, and then does it again, up and down, up and down…

His hands grab her ass, bring her closer and he feasts on her like a hungry man while she wiggles against him, seizing a fistful of his hair so hard it’s painful, but he doesn’t care because she’s saying, _oh god_ , she’s saying: “Don’t stop, please, Athos, darling, my love, yes, there, oh my god, this feels so _good_ …”

He feels like he’s going to burst if he’s not taking her this instant but who knows if it’s not the last time he’ll have this opportunity? So he breathes in her scent and opens his breeches to ease the pressure. Fortunately, she seems to hear him because she pushes his head away: “Come here, come here…” His beard is soaked but she doesn’t seem to care, kissing him hard on the mouth and guiding him inside her.

It’s been so long he needs to wait a moment before beginning to move, hoping he won’t cum too fast: “I… I don’t think I can last long.” She gives him a half-smile before opening his jacket and his shirt, running her hands on his chest: “Nobody’s asking you to.” Then, she contracts her muscles _there_ and he can’t help the groan coming out of his mouth: “It’ll not last at all if you keep doing that.”

She opens big innocent eyes: “Sorry, couldn’t help it.”

He lets out a snort and his hips begin moving on their own will. This is good, so good, she rises up and licks his neck, causing him to lose control of his movements, not that she’s complaining, on the contrary, her nails scratch against the back of his leather jacket, making him wonder what would’ve happen to his poor naked back if he’d removed his clothes.

His hand reaches between them and he begins stroking her and she contracts again, making him close his eyes and bite his lower lip.

For a moment, the room is almost silent except for their gasps and the wet sound of their mouths meeting. He can feel she’s close so he angles his hips slightly on the left and watches her fall apart, legs trembling against his hips, her back arching and mouth biting on her fist to keep quiet. Her spasms are enough to send him off the edge, a few more thrusts and he’ll… “Cum on his desk.”

“What?” His hips keep moving instinctively and it's really hard focusing on anything else than her walls stroking his cock.

She begins to laugh, her whole body trembling and she begins to suck on _that spot_ at the meeting of his neck and his collarbone. Suddenly, nothing else matters anymore and he finally finds his release, losing himself in her and drowning for a short time in a pure, relaxing bliss.

*****

“Did you really say that?”

They’re both up and Anne’s back faces him while he’s tying her corset back up. Rochefort’s desk is a mess of crumpled letters and Athos is pretty sure this has been the worst mission of his life.

She looks at him, smiling mischievously: “Yes, I did. But I’m glad you didn’t because we couldn’t have seen his face afterwards.”

He’s still hesitating between snorting and rolling his eyes when they hear footsteps approaching and a woman’s voice close to the door: “His state is stable for now, Rochefort is at his side. They say the Queen’s doctor poisoned him.” Another woman answers her and their voices fade: “That’s unbelievable, I know him and he’d never do such a despicable thing!”

“Yes, but once Rochefort has decided to destroy someone, they don't stand a chance…”

Athos and Anne exchange some concerned looks. Their moment is over. They have to find an alternative to the letters and what's happening in the Palace before going their separate ways. For now.

He seizes Rochefort’s seal and a letter while she opens the door and checks if the corridor is safe. He joins her and they’re about to leave when he suddenly faces her: “What happened there…”

Her face twists into a frown: “I’m not in the mood for a lecture. I know we behaved like animals in heat, but what’s done is done. Let’s move on.”

He calmly grabs her arm before she begins walking: “That’s not what I was going to say.”

Her eyes scrutinize him and she seems to soften a bit: “What then?”

He exhales a sigh and gives her a half-smile.

“It was nice.”

 

FIN.


End file.
